Regrets
by Jynjyr
Summary: Carter's POV of Alternatives.


_Regrets_

by

_Jynjyr_

A Stargate: SG-1 story

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me. They just invade my brain, play games with my mind and compel me to put their adventures on paper.

The Stargate universe and all of its characters belong to MGM/UA, Double Secret, Stargate Productions and Gekko Film Corporation. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you for letting me play in your universe.

Title: Regrets (companion piece to Alternatives from Carter's POV)

Author: Jynjyr

Spoilers: Reference to Abyss, TBFtGoG, POV, MiaB, PL.

Season: After the start of Season 7

Rating: PG-13 (Language, Suggestive actions)

Warning: Very Shippy, AU, Character Death

Summary: Carter's POV of Alternatives.

Thanks so much to my beta-reader, Norlioness. And to my very confused back doctor, Dr. Dean Pahr, for information on spinal injuries. Any errors are mine alone.

* * *

Regrets

I watch myself take the v-fib paddles from Janet one by one. "No, Janet. It's time and you know it." _Is that really me talking?_

Daniel shuts off the shrieking monitor and the significance of what we've done hits home.

_Colonel O'Neill is gone. He's really gone this time._ I'm leaning on Janet's shoulder and I can feel her shaking as badly as I am. She's lost not only a patient but a friend. We stand there for a minute and I hear her whisper in my ear, "You did the right thing, Sam."

Daniel and Teal'c are coming over now and Janet pushes me gently away. The men each put an arm around my waist to help hold me up. I wrap my one good arm around Teal'c and squeeze tight. He's like a pillar, keeping us all standing.

We start to walk away and I turn my head for one last look. The nurses are removing the cervical collar and unstrapping him from the backboard. It doesn't make any difference now.

Janet says, "Time of death; 8:34 p.m.," and I can feel the guys flinch. She's pulling the sheet over his face. I can't watch any more.

The three of us stumble over to my bed in the infirmary. From where I'm sitting, if I turn my head a little, I can just see the Colonel's bed. Daniel and Teal'c firmly put their backs to the area.

Daniel looks like hell. Worse than when Sha're was taken by Apophis. He and the Colonel used to be the best of friends, closer than brothers. I don't know what happened between them, but whatever it was, I'll bet it seems trivial now.

Teal'c appears shocked, too. It's a lot harder to tell with him. He keeps everything locked inside. Just like the Colonel. They were two of a kind. Warriors who have seen and done things no one should have to. They understood each other on a level Daniel and I could never reach.

A noise makes me glance at the other end of the room. Dr. Warner is pushing a gurney out the door down there. He's taking the Colonel's body to the morgue for the postmortem.

_Goodbye, Sir. I guess rank doesn't matter any more. I can finally call you Jack. I'm going to miss you … Jack._

I hope General Hammond doesn't ask me to speak at the memorial. At the memorials. They'll have one here, and a public funeral. Everyone will think he died in some senseless 'training accident'. Deep space radar telemetry, not particularly hazardous duty.

Janet was here a minute ago; I don't have the faintest idea what she was saying. I can't seem to focus on anything. Suddenly I just want to scream, "Get me the hell out of here."

This is not the place I want to be. Daniel wants to bug out, too. This is probably the first time I've checked out of the infirmary without permission.

Daniel's office is the perfect place. Dark, quiet, faintly smelling of dust and old books it's ideal for being alone together. Teal'c and I sit on the couch. He very carefully puts an arm around my injured shoulder and lets me lean against him. He knows. He let me cry on him once before when we thought the Colonel was lost. At least, then, he wasn't declared 'dead'. We had hope that we would eventually find where the alien device sent him and Maybourne. The only thing I can hope for this time is that the pain I'm feeling will become bearable. I pray we did the right thing.

If I hadn't been so damn insistent on finding the source of the power spikes, we would have never been in those caves when the earthquake struck. But no, I couldn't leave it for someone else, for another team with the proper equipment for caving. It had to be me, Major Doctor Samantha Carter, to bring back the alien technology. And the Colonel paid for my obstinance.

Just once, I wish I'd accepted his invitation to go fishing. Away from the SGC, away from the Air Force, maybe we could have forgotten regulations long enough to talk. There are so many things I wanted to tell him. Things I wanted to do. Things I dreamt about during guard duty off world while I watched him sleep on the other side of the fire.

What would he have done if I took the baseball cap off his head, ran my fingers through his glorious silver hair and kissed him like 'Dr. Carter-O'Neill' from the alternate reality did? _Who am I kidding?_ What I really wanted to do was explore every inch of that long lean body and prove to him that he wasn't getting old. I know he was self-conscious when he started going gray. Little did he realize; those distinguished swatches at his temples just made him stand out from the crowd.

One day in the locker room, an anthropologist from another team compared us to silver-back gorillas. She said that the females are attracted to the silver hair because it proves the male is a survivor. Strong and smart enough that his genes deserve to be passed on.

_I walk down to the dock by the cabin. He's sitting there with his feet up on the cooler, a fishing rod in one hand and a beer in the other. I stop next to him and he swings his feet away so I can get a cold beer. That's not why I'm down here. I straddle his knees and sit on his lap so I'm gazing into those sweet chocolate eyes. His jaw drops open in surprise. Excellent. My hands knock the boonie off his head as I reach up to take a double handful of hair. Our lips meet in a long smoldering kiss. There's a splash as the rod falls into the water and a thunk as the bottle drops. At first he tries to push me away, but soon his strong, elegant hands are teasing the back of my neck; inviting me to continue._

Laughter snaps me out of my reverie, a pleasant dream in which I shouldn't have been indulging. Harsh reality sets in, pointing out that 'what-might-have-beens' are cold comfort.

Daniel is staring at the door like he's expecting it to open. "Good morning, Campers…"

I continue as his voice chokes off, "Sleep well? I did." The Colonel often called us 'campers' or 'kids'. I guess from his perspective, we were kids. "Remember the first time he used that on us? After we found that Orb on P5C-353 and worked all night trying to figure it out."

The alarms send us scrambling to the Control room. General Hammond looks as dumbfounded as I've ever seen him.

Sergeant Harriman plays back a recorded radio transmission from through the wormhole. "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is SG-one-niner. Colonel Jack O'Neill. Mayday, mayday, mayday. My GDO is broken and I'm injured."

It's a good thing the chair behind me is empty because my knees buckle and I fall into it. I know it can't be, but it IS his voice. I'm trying to decide whether to laugh, cry, throw up or faint. There's a little voice in my head screaming, "_He's not dead. Thank you! Thank you!"_

General Hammond asks me if I want to control the MALP for a survey. _Control the MALP, Hell!_ I want to run through the damn Stargate with Daniel and Teal'c and see for myself.

I get the MALP down the stairs on the other side. If the Colonel is injured he can't be too far away. "Colonel O'Neill. Where are you, sir? If you can hear me, please answer." It feels like I'm shouting loud enough to be heard without the radio.

"Here, by the DHD." I can hear him but I don't see him.

"Look down."

I tilt the camera toward the ground and see him trying to pull himself up.

"Uh, kids. I could use a hand here."

The guys run into camera range. Teal'c lifts the Colonel to his feet and I shut down the wormhole then bolt for the door. I'm going to be in the Gateroom when they get back.

Janet catches me as my slippers slide on the concrete floor. No wonder everyone is looking at me oddly, I'm still in the infirmary pajamas and robe.

I push through the medical team to stand as close as possible to the ramp. I don't remember having the wormhole take this long to stabilize. Here they come. He's beaten, battered and bloody but trying to walk on his own. He looks up toward General Hammond in the control room and, before he passes out, declares weakly, "There's no place like home."

Time flies by me in a blur. We're sitting in the infirmary again, watching and waiting. The General had assigned guards in case this is a Goa'uld trick. How, I don't know. They're both flesh and blood, and we know the Asgard put a marker on his DNA so he can't be cloned. I know this is the real Jack O'Neill.

Janet tells us we can come in and see him for a few minutes. Even though I can hear him complaining, I'm afraid to walk around the curtain. Afraid that I'm dreaming after all and that, when I go in there, I'll wake up and he'll still be dead. Teal'c puts a hand on my back and pushes me in.

I stand at the end of the bed, clutching the footboard. His feet are moving around under the blanket like he's trying to get comfortable. He says something to us and I finally look up. I don't have thefoggiest idea what he said; I can only stare at his face and nod my head. If I let go of my anchor, I might do something stupid. Faint or kiss him, take your choice.

Gently taking my hand away from the footboard, Janet shepherds us all away from Jack's bed. Teal'c is the only one of us capable of anything coherent.

As I recover my composure, I watch Teal'c and Janet pour us some coffee. Taking the cup gratefully, I mutter, "Thanks, Janet. I don't know what came over me. I feel pretty foolish."

Daniel mumbles pretty much the same thing.

Janet tries to reassure us. "You've had two pretty major shocks in the last twelve hours. I'm not at all surprised by the reaction." She hands us each a granola bar. "Your blood sugar is probably way down. Finish that and the coffee. When you feel like it, you're free to go."

I can't believe how hungry I am. It's been 24 hours since I last ate. But, an hour ago, just the thought of food made me sick.

Dr. Warner is giving his medical report on the man who died last night. I refuse to call him 'O'Neill'. The real Jack O'Neill is sleeping in the infirmary.

"There is one major difference however. He has a symbiote."

For about thirty seconds the only sound in the briefing room is Daniel, choking on his coffee. _No way on God's green earth is any version of Jack O'Neill a Goa'uld._ That's it, the man in the morgue must be from an alternate reality.

Daniel just put forth the same theory. In this 'other's' reality, he Blended with Kanan.

Boy, the General is not happy with the thought of another Mirror. He's glaring at me as if it's my fault as I try to explain.

"General, if there is a Mirror in those caves, that could explain the energy readings I was getting." I pause as another thought strikes, "It would also explain how the Colonel knew we picked up the 'wrong' O'Neill. He saw the 'other' and the Mirror."

We're dismissed, to meet back here at 1300 tomorrow. With Colonel O'Neill.

The only patient in the infirmary tonight is the Colonel and he can't see us coming. Janet purposely left the curtain pulled. I guess the smell of the Chinese take-out we've got has preceded us.

"Kung Pao Chicken, Sweet and Sour Pork, Mongolian Beef, Shrimp in Garlic Sauce, Fried Rice." The Colonel nailed them. He sounds like he's in pain. "Kill me now."

It's great to be together and laughing, even if it has to be in the infirmary. He's looking a lot better than this morning. Whatever Janet is running through the IV is helping.

Oh, crap! I knew this would come up. He wants to know where the 'other' O'Neill is. I shudder at the memory of what was happening last night at this time. 8:30 p.m., exactly at this time.

Janet wants us to leave. The Colonel looks pretty upset, mainly because we thought it was him who died. What kind of person worries about how his friends will feel when he dies? I've never given it much thought. I hope they miss me and say nice things but, it's not something I'm concerned about.

Every time I lean over the worktable in Daniel's office to add something to the map of the caves that we're working on, I put pressure on my shoulder. And it hurts like a son-of-a-gun. Janet says I tore some muscles and it'll take time to heal. I hate this.

"Good morning, Campers." We get a duet from Daniel and the Colonel. It's good to see them together, like they used to be.

The Colonel points out where the Mirror is located, except that it was destroyed in the earthquake.

Daniel and I have the same sickening thought. _If the 'other' couldn't go home, he would have died anyway. Much more horribly._ We glance at each other with guilty relief. We did do the right thing.

Oh Lord. He suspects something. The door is shut tight and he's picked on Daniel to start. Maybe if I don't look up, he won't ask me. My turn. I keep writing on the table.

Teal'c just blurted out cold that he killed the other O'Neill. Daniel and I talk across each other trying to explain. When we run out of words, I glance toward the Colonel sitting on the couch. How can anyone admit that, with clear forethought and not in the heat of battle, they decided to … murder … a man? That's what it comes down to. At the time, in our eyes, we murdered Jack O'Neill. We had no idea that the man wasn't 'our' O'Neill or what was in store for him.

He raises his head and I look down again. I don't want to see in his eyes the anger and loathing for the people who would kill their friend.

I hear the words but I don't get it. He's thanking us? We did him a favor? He hugs me as close as possible with my arm between us and murmurs in my ear, "Thank you, Sam. Thank you for letting go."

I don't want to let go this time. I pull him closer and cry on his shoulder for a moment as his hand gently rubs my back.

It was as nice and dignified a funeral as we could do for a person we didn't know, who wasn't supposed to be in our world in the first place. The Tok'ra custom of disintegrating their dead in a forming wormhole was particularly … useful. No red tape.

The Colonel looks a little shaken. No one ever said the 'other's' name but, effectively, he just attended his own funeral. Creepy thought.

Janet has put me on ten days medical leave but I want to check out the pieces of the Mirror that SG-6 brought back. I'll probably stay here and work.

I had a talk with Daniel last night. I explained that when, not if, something like this happens again I don't want to have things left unsaid. We talked for a couple of hours about life and death and relationships. I'm glad we did. We found out things about each other that we never suspected.

Teal'c was a little harder. I did most of the talking. He's an awesome listener. When he did break, he let me into depths I would have never imagined. I think I could love that man, given half a chance.

And now, the toughest nut to crack. The Colonel just came in.

"Watcha doin?" he asks, taking my magnifying glass and playing with it.

"Examining parts of the Mirror. Maybe I can figure something out about it," I answer, picking up a probe.

"You know, Fraiser put us both on medical leave. Aren't you leaving?" He's spinning around on a work stool. Worse than a kid.

"No. There's nothing to do at home. I'd like to work on this." I confiscate the magnifier from him and look at the edge of a piece.

"Fraiser says I can go up to the cabin for a while. A little hard to fish one-handed, but what the heck." He stops spinning and starts for the door. "I suppose it's useless to ask if you'd be interested?"

"I don't …" _No regrets, Sam. Remember._ "… see why not? When do we leave?" I wish I had a camera to capture the astonishment on his face as I go around turning off equipment. "This will be here when I get back."

We're standing in the elevator heading for the surface when I glance over at him and say, "You are aware, Sir, that I don't fish?"

He answers, deadpan, "I don't think there are any fish in that stupid lake anyway."

We laugh as he gives me a cheeky grin and a raised eyebrow.

Finis

© 2004 Jynjyr


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